Learning the Truth
by Alurax
Summary: Cid desires to find out what happened to his lover all those years ago
1. Chapter 1

_I'm going to do this a bit differently. Even though I vastly seem to enjoy writing torture, I simply can not bare having Hojo torture someone (I had him slap Sephiroth, and I felt sick). So I'm sorta changing the way I'm writing this, just so I can have Cid reflect my anger and disgust. I hate forcing Cid to watch his dear Vincent being tortured, but I don't think I could get through this without him. Plus I want this to have a happy ending… I'm getting sick of writing tragedy, yo._

--

"So, it was this here mansion?" Cid stood out in front of ShinRa Manor, staring up at the towering building. He had asked around the others to show him where they had found Vincent. Harboring some hope of maybe finding out some more about him, in turn maybe some ways to help him. Plus he wanted to know the full reason of why Barret seemed to hold some strange notion that his lover was going to drain him dry while he slept. Cloud, Tifa, and Yuffie had agreed to show the pilot the mansion. He'd left a note with Vincent, telling him he was on a delivery, and he'd most likely be back late. He couldn't bear to lie to his face, but it'd be even worse to let Vincent know what he was doing. The gunman often discouraged him from delving into his past. Said it wasn't a good idea, but this uncontrollable urge told him he had to do this.

The large gate screeched open, and Cid felt a tight knot wrench his stomach. He could hardly believe it. Vincent had always been so close. He lived near Nibelheim, he'd been there quite a few times. "I've been in this mansion before." He finally managed to choke out, as they entered the large dusty room. "I hate ta think he was so close, but I didn't know he was in here."

Tifa placed an arm on his shaking shoulder. "He was hidden rather well. Obviously, Hojo didn't want anyone to find him."

"Yea." Yuffie turned, as she was bounding up the stairs. "I'm still not completely sure how we found him."

Cloud led them up the stairs, which just sparked the pilot's curiosity all the more. "Hold up. I thought you said he was in the basement. Why the hell are we goin up?"

"There's a secret passage up here." He answered so simply, not even bothering to look back. Cid didn't even know why the young swordsman came along, in the first place. He seemed far too nervous to even enter the courtyard for this ancient building.

Cloud led them into a small room, off to the right, where a large stone pillar was shoved in the corner. He hit a loose brick in the pillar, commanding a large door to open and led the three of them in. Cid had to admit, he was amazed by the 'thoroughly hidden door', but felt his heart sink once more as he gazed down the old wooden ramp that seemed to wind down into endless darkness. The other three proceeded carefully along the old ramp, with Cid following close behind. He half expected the old boards to break under his feet, but they were surprisingly sturdy.

Soon enough, the unnerving silence between the four of them started to get to him. The pilot felt a slightly hysteric smile cross his lips. "You guys sure he was put down here? Maybe Vince just got dizzy walkin down this damn thing and passed out."

The girls gave an awkward giggle, but Cloud stayed silent. "Aww, come on Spike." The pilot pushed on, still trying to break the uneasy silence. "Lighten up. It was just a joke."

"You're about to learn your husband's fate. I don't think that's anything to joke about."

The tone in his voice made it clear, that that was the final word.

When they reached the bottom of the spiraling ramp, Tifa stopped, grasping Cid's arm. "Are you sure you want to do this?" There was an earnestly concerned look in her eyes, that caused the pilot to even question his motives. On the outside, he merely smiled, patting her head. "I just wanna look around the place ya'll found him at. What all could I possibly find out at this place?" He walked on ahead, after Cloud and Yuffie, leaving the still unsure Tifa behind, for a few steps.

Cid looked around the dark dusty cellar, his heart sinking again, at the thought of his beloved Vincent being in this dirty place. Cloud stopped at a large rusted steel door. He grasped the handle, pushing hard. Cloud slammed his shoulder into the door, and it finally swung open, with a burst of dust. They coughed, fanning the dust away.

"Damn." Cid exclaimed. "Don't they ever clean this place?"

"Why should they?" Yuffie hacked on a dust-ball that's made its way down her throat. "I think we were the lasts one to ever come in this mansion."

The room was very dark, lit only with a loose bulb, which Tifa had turned on as they entered. The swinging light cast odd shadows on the walls, to reveal many cob and spider webs hanging from various corners, and roaches scurrying across the room, at the sight of the light.

Yuffie cringed. "Now I remember why I stayed outside."

"It's that one." Cloud pointed to a stone coffin, in the center of the room. It was the only one opened, and Cid was slightly curious to find out what was in the others… but not enough. Instead, he knelt down next to the coffin, looking inside. The first thing to cross the pilot's mind was that there was no possible way for him to be comfortable in this thing.' A foolish thought – yes, but he couldn't control his mind.

"Damn… now I see why Barret thinks he's a vampire." He reached inside, caressing the smooth, cold stone. His hand brushing against the slight dent in the hard stone, almost able to see the beautiful figure that'd caused it. "If I'd seen Vincent sleeping in this, I'd probably think the same thing." His voice came out as a whisper, the thought of him being trapped down here almost bringing a tear to his eye. Cid turned up to the others around him. "So he was just sleeping?"

Yuffie shrugged. "Yea. He woke up when we opened the coffin."

"Actually told us to leave him alone and let him sleep."

"What?" Cid continued to examine the rest of the coffin, a hand slowly moving to the lid. "Bein trapped in a fuckin coffin for 30 years, you'd figure he'd want out."

Cloud knelt on the other side. "Maybe he was just scared to face the outside." His voice dropped down a hair, fingers tracing along the edge. "I know I'd be."

Cid just stared at Cloud. In some fucked up way, it made sense. Maybe Cloud understood Vincent a lot better than he did. The pilot shook the thought away. He felt stupid for even thinking it. Vincent wouldn't leave him for Cloud.

His heart froze, a gasp pushing down his throat, as a hand brushed over some odd indents on the lid, laying next to the stone prison. He slid over, examining it closer. "Fuck me." He gasped, a tear tracing his cheek. "Did you guys see this!?"

"See what?" Tifa knelt down, watching as Cid traced his fingers over the crude marks scratched into the thick surface, and gasped, slapping both hands to her mouth. "Oh my God… is- is that what I think it is!?"

Yuffie leaned in closer, not daring to let anything but her feet touch the ground. "Eww. There's a finger nail lodged in it." Two pairs of eyes glared up at the annoyingly perceptive ninja. The third was too busy with his own thoughts. The sound of his lover screaming as he clawed at the heavy covering filled his mind. Cid's head fell down, his tears mixing with the dust that'd settled next to his hands. Was he actually locked in here? Or was Vincent too weak to push it off? Considering the strength he had seen from Chaos, he highly doubted the latter was true. A burning hatred towards the man that'd done this to him surged in his stomach.

"Cid?" A gentle voice, and a soft hand, settled on his whitening knuckles. "Are you alright?"

"Yea." He sniffed, brushing angrily at his face. "Yea, I'm good. Come on." Cid stood, storming outta the room. "I wanna look around some more."

The three left in the room exchanged worried glances. If Cid was already that distressed over seeing this, how would he respond if he found anything else?

They followed quickly, finding the pilot in the library checking through books. He was getting rather frustrated, and threw a few of them. "There ain't nuthin in here but bullshit about Jenova."

Tifa picked up some of the book, laying them gently on the table. "Well, Cid. I highly doubt there were books published about all of this."

Cid groaned, slumping into the chair. "Guess you're right."

Yuffie helped Tifa pick up the books. They didn't much know why they were bothering to straighten up. At least it gave them something to do.

"What all were you expecting to find?" Cloud settled onto the table, his legs hanging limply over the edge.

"I dunno." The pilot shrugged. "Some fucking info. Why the hell would he put him down here, if this wasn't where it happened?"

Tifa moved over, next to Cloud, but didn't sit down. "Have you ever asked Vincent about this?"

Cid slumped further in his chair, looking almost like a scorned child. "Well, yea. But he never tells me no details."

"Well, maybe he doesn't want you to know. Perhaps you should respect that."

Cid groaned, scratching his head. "Yea, I guess you're right. I don't even know where the hell this idea came from… hey… where's the kid?" The sudden realization of the young ninja's disappearance brought the three into a paranoid uproar.

They split up, searching all through the mansion. Cid went on down a back way, past the library. There seemed to be a whole new building down here. Everything so old fashioned, constructed of either stone or wood. The layout of this place was almost like a labyrinth. So many doors everywhere, but Cid was amazed to see so many computers. He didn't think technology was so advanced that long ago. He plotted to start messing with one of them, when he heard a noise, and rushed after it. "Dammit, Yuffie, we'd been lookin everywhere for ya." He burst in through the door, and froze. There was a large rehabilitation tube, surrounded by a ring of computers.

Yuffie jumped at the sudden intrusion. "Sorry, Cid. I just found a back way, and decided to explore. Guess I shoulda told you guys first." She stopped, staring at the pilot, who seemed transfixed on the empty tube. "You all right, Gramps?"

Normally Cid would have popped her in the mouth for calling him that, but there was something about this room. An odd, kind of thick presence lingering through the air. Which was strange in and of itself, because Cid normally didn't sense those kinds of things. He proceeded closer, flipping on the computer. To both of their surprise, it came on.

Cid proceeded to tap away at the keys, as if he knew just how to hack into the data base. With as much as this man knew about technology, it wasn't that much of a shock. Still, the young ninja had never seen his eyes so focused on anything so seriously. Then again, she'd never really taken the time to sit down and watch Cid work on something. "Captain?"

He didn't respond, just kept searching through the files, hoping to find something. Finally, Cid started to recognize some things. The title 'Apocalypse Project' came to his eyes. He had remembered once that Vincent mentioned that Chaos and the others were, in a way, the bringers of the end… or sumthing like that. He clicked on the link and the word 'subject' came up next to a picture of a handsome young man, wearing a Turk uniform. He had short black hair, shading those all too familiar crimson eyes. He looked so different, but there was no mistaking it.

That was his Vincent.

The name in the description of the project confirmed this. There was both written descriptions and video footage of these events. Apparently Hojo liked to keep very detailed documents of his exploits.

Cid's eyes widened, and he gulped, speaking in a soft sigh. "This is it."

Yuffie grasped his elbow gently, staring at the screen. "Are you seriously going to watch this?"

He didn't answer, just placed a shaky hand over the mouse, and clicked on the video files.

Yuffie gasped astonished. "Cid."

"Yuffie." The ninja jumped. She hardly ever heard him say her name… especially not with that serious undertone to his voice. Cid lit a cigarette, settling down in the chair. It screeched, rejecting the new weight. "Do me a favor. Tell Vincent I'm gonna be a bit longer than I thought. But I'll call him as soon as I can."

--

_AN: (i need to stop starting new fics, when i only ahve one finished) and in case NEone's interested, this is the second story in my series. (between Vincent's Turk Days and Forgiveness i'm actually gonna write all three at once, so i can get them all over with. it's not the kinda thing that'll cause spoilers, (well, maybe, but not big ones) so i don't care. i'm just writing them so nobody will have questions on where i stand on all the confusing theories flying around on Vincent._


	2. Chapter 2

The image opened on a close-up of the deranged scientist, as he turned the camera on. Cid winced, to see him stare directly at the screen, to make sure it was on. He didn't know how long he could watch this if he had to look into those soul-less eyes all the time. His focus changed, however, as Hojo backed away from the screen to reveal a limp form strapped to a lab table behind him.

The image was old, and had slight tracking problems, but that wasn't too difficult to look past. It didn't take a genius to figure out who the man was, laying helplessly on the table. However, the hollow expression in those beautiful red eyes made Cid's heart leap into his throat. He wasn't… was he?

The pilot jumped as Hojo spoke. Documenting aloud for the camera. The high pitched voice, piercing his ears. "The specimen has been dead now for six hours."

Cid gaped. "Six… six hours?"

"He passed away from a bullet wound in his right shoulder, and about 2 inches to the left of the heart. Most likely bled out, after collapsing from shock. Rigor mortis has long since set in." He shoved an IV into the pale arm. "Making it difficult to attach the life monitors through the tough skin, but it's in, and I can begin my procedure."

The sickening sound of the monitor flat-lining caused Cid to stop breathing. He was really dead. Vincent was laying on that table… dead. The word twisted heavily into his mind. His beloved was dead, and he was pretty sure Hojo was the one who'd done it.

"Now." The annoying voice forced Cid to turn back to the screen, where Hojo held what looked like a syringe with some kind of glowing blood in it. The pilot eyed the needle, skeptically. What the hell is that?

"Another question in our studies is whether or not Jenova cells can re-animate a corpse."

"Jenova?"

Hojo lifted the syringe, to see it in the dull light, before jamming it into Vincent's arm. "First test of 50 mg into the subject and see the reaction." He jerked it out, standing back to observe. He, of course, didn't expect an immediate reaction, but the scientist seemed a tad annoyed when five minutes had passed without so much as a twinge.

Cid held his breathe, watching. His thoughts torn. On the one hand, he didn't want Vincent to wake up, though we all know he does, because he knew that this was only the beginning of his suffering. But on the other hand, the thought of Vincent dying always haunted him.

After what felt like an eternity, Hojo groaned. "Thirty minutes, and still no response." He fiddled with the contents on the table. "Perhaps another dose. After which, if it doesn't work, I'll consider this a failed experiment, and dispose of the body."

Cid cringed as he filled the syringe again, this time claiming to have doubled it. He didn't understand. Why wasn't Vincent waking up? It couldn't be possible that he was pretending. There was no way of hiding his heart beat. Even if he could, Cid doubted that Vincent even knew yet what was happening to him.

Not even three minutes later, the endless note was broken by a slight flux, causing both Cid and the bastard to jump. It was a few seconds before the next one, but it was definite. Slowly, but surely Vincent's heart was coming back to life.

Next, his hand clenched gently, and soon, Vincent drew in a sharp breath. In more of a struggling wheeze, but he was breathing. Cid wondered briefly if he had lied about how long Vincent had been dead, because he sounded like he had cobwebs in his lungs. Finally, the gunman cleared himself enough to speak. "Where am I?" His eyes fluttered painfully, until they fell on Hojo standing next to him. The naturally menacing red glare flared at the sight of him. "What the hell have you done to me?" He pulled at the restraints, as his voice strained to stay audible. "Let me go."

A gloved hand snapped over his mouth, to silence him. Cid was ready to jump into the screen and rip his head off. "Don't you fucking touch him!" As if the threat could change the past.

"Hush now. You have to be good for the camera." He pointed towards the camera, and Vincent glanced over at it. Cid's heart melted at seeing the innocent spark in those young eyes.

"What the hell is there a camera for?" He watched as Hojo circled around him, towards the other table.

"You are very lucky."

Cid snorted.

"You have been resurrected so that you can help me."

Vincent's face went hollow. 'Resurrected?' His lips traced the word and he felt a tear sting his eye. "I was… dead?" He nearly cringed just to say it."

Hojo chuckled at his naivity. "Unless you think you can survive a bullet piercing your lungs. You're not indestructible." He flicked the needle. "Yet."

Vincent could feel a cold chill rupture his nerves at the way he said that. He sighed, somehow managing to keep his voice steady. "Dare I ask, what you're intending to do with me?"

He laughed again, shaking both listeners to the core. "It's far too complicated for your inferior brain to comprehend." He slid his hands into Vincent's shirt, pushing it open. Cid gripped the seat, trying to resist the urge to jump through the screen… if he could. A thin finger twisted around the bullet wound, still in his chest, before sliding inside. Vincent cringed, biting his lip at the sting. He wasn't about to give Hojo the satisfaction of letting him know how much it hurt. The new syringe was held in front of the Turk's eyes. The liquid inside was a bright green, and the needle much bigger than the last. "This, my boy, is Mako. It's been known to enhance physical ability as well as the ability to heal. You're bound to still be weak from the death, and I can't take a chance on you dying again, so I need to make sure your body can better handle the procedure." Hojo removed his finger. "Now you may feel some slight discomfort." With very little delicacy, he slammed the needle into the bullet wound, depressing the plunger.

Vincent's eyes widened sharply as the thick hot liquid forced itself through his veins. His breathing labored against the pain, as he tried to get away. The full effect of it hit his body, and he bucked on the table, pulling sharply at the restraints. Painfully, the wrong restraints broke, and Vincent screamed at an ear splittingly high pitch, his body continuing to convulse. Tears forced their way through the gunman's clenched eyes, disappearing into his hair as his head jerked back. It was the ony thing he could get free and he was going to take full advantage of it.

Even after Hojo pulled the needle out, Vincent was still screaming from the liquid still coursing through his body. He was silenced by a sharp hand to the side of his face. "Shut up. You're giving me a headache." He took off the gloves, throwing them down on the table. "I'll be back after it's started to fully sink in."

Vincent gasped for breath, his head falling over towards the camera. His face burned hot, tears still soaking his face. He sobbed, finally allowing himself to cry now that Hojo was gone. The now glowing red eyes fluttered softly, just wanting to give their owner some sense of rest.

Cid patted out the small flame that'd sparked on his pants, spitting out the butt he had crushed in his teeth. He fell back, scrubbing the tears from his own face, and sighed. "How the hell am I gonna be able to watch all of this?"

--

_AN: i'm with you Cid. i could hardly get through this, and i didn't even want to proof read it_


	3. Chapter 3

_... please don't hurt me._

--

There was a good portion of the scenes that Cid had to skip over. It seemed Hojo soon forgot the camera was there, because he appeared to have a fetish for un-strapping and beating his victim. Anything he could find became a weapon on his diabolical hands. Anywhere from whips to blunt objects just laying around the room. He even, at times resorted to stun guns, as well as his own fists. Hojo claimed it to be testing the sturdiness the Mako provided his body, but the pilot highly doubted that was true. There was far too much maliciousness behind the attacks for it to just be research.

Cid was happy to see Vincent trying to fight back at times, but that only led to him being pinned with long chains connected to the ground. Only allowing his arms about a four foot reach.

The camera was constantly on, to monitor its subject's progress when the doctor wasn't playing with him. Often, Vincent laid awake in the darkness. His eyes gleaming like small nightlights, with the new touch of Mako tainting his body. He lay very still, just scanning the room, maybe looking for a way out. His head snapped around at the brief sounds of other's screaming. He wondered who else that maniacal man had in his clutches.

Cid considered skipping these parts, but he preferred to watch his young lover being able to at least calm his heart, occasionally drifting off to sleep.

The large steal door, swung heavily open, screeching on it's hinges, flooding a blinding light into the dark room. Hojo slammed the lights on, looking rather perturbed. Vincent nearly smiled, at the sight of the scientist's twisted fingers. "What happened to your hand, Hojo?" His voice dripping with sinicism.

A merciless hand snapped across his face, but he didn't care. Vincent had grown used to the feel of that hand now, and it didn't hurt anymore. "Shut up, you cocky bastard."

Now the young Turk was intrigued. What could've possibly happened to do this to him? Whoever it was, he'd have to thank him.

The doctor set to work, searching through the various instruments sprawled on the table. He pulled out a rubber tourniquet, wrapping it sharply around the bicep of Vincent's left hand. The glowing red eyes fixed on him, curiously, if not a bit nervous. With nothing more than the now rather frightening sneer, he shoved some kind of surgical gun, connected to a big machine by a long hose, into the inside of his elbow. Vincent winced, feeling a cold rush flowing through his arm. His skin started to tingle, goose-bumps rising to the surface. Everything below the tourniquet went numb as a mild frost started to form on his skin.

Monitors indicated Vincent's increased heart-rate, and that sadistic smile returned to the doctor's face. "I just had a brain storm. I've never before gotten the chance to dissect a living limb." His grin widened with the sound quickening. "The main problem is always that it's far too messy. Blood everywhere, but I believe this new device will help with that, and even with the removal of your epidermis."

He removed the gun, with a sick slurp. Vincent looked down at his arm, flexing the fingers slowly. He could still feel it a little bit, and he saw a small red dot against the now violet-blue skin.

Hojo returned to him, with what looked like an old fashioned bottle opener. The screw part of it was stabbed straight into the now brittle skin of his forearm and twisted. Vincent hissed turning his head away. The heart-rate monitor fluctuated frantically, until the chunk of skin was peeled off, as if it was nothing more than a plastic coating on a toy. Hojo set the skin neatly in a pan, covered with white paper, and stabbed it in again. Vincent's eyes clenched, failing to hold back his tears. Blood seeped from where he was biting his lip.

The helplessly watching pilot, felt sick, his hands clamped over his mouth in shock. A very odd gesture for him, but seeing this could probably bring Barret to tears. He didn't completely understand what was going on. How could he so calmly peel someone's skin off?

The spiral tool was set next to the chunks of skin, now settling in frighteningly very small puddles of blood. Hojo slid a pair of gloves onto his hands, having some trouble with the one, and lifted the now stripped appendage, gently. Vincent didn't dare look, but cringed at the feeling shooting though the exposed muscles.

"I've always been so curious as to how much can be stripped away from ones anatomy, and still have it functional. Figured a dominant hand could hold more strength to test this." He grinned over at the Turk, still turned away from him, his labored breathing seeming strained. "Don't you agree Vincent?"

"Bite me!" He hissed.

The words didn't even seem to faze him. (Cid guessed because he'd probably heard them often) Instead, his attention turned back to the experiment in his hands. "You're curious too. You just can't admit it right now." He adjusted the grip, proceeding to chip away the extra layers of skin. The inside was getting a bit warmer, and so bled more than the initial layer, but this didn't seem to affect the deranged scientist in the least. "Well, any idiot should know, that you need the main muscles here for movement." He mused aloud as he worked. As if Vincent was even caring enough to listen. He was too busy thinking of all new creative ways to tear this man to pieces, when he finally got out of here. "The bones are required to keep it sturdy, and veins and arteries keep blood flow to keep the muscles operational, but the nerve endings aren't necessarily needed." He reached back, snatching up a shiny pair of forceps.

As odd as it sounded, Vincent actually liked the sound of that. Maybe that meant he wouldn't be able to feel what else he did to him.

"Hmm." Hojo stopped, tapping the sharp instrument on his lips. "But it seems a few muscles are constructing my way to them. Fortunately, a muscle can be reattached after it is torn, so I'll just have to cut them first."

Vincent gasped, choking on a short scream, as the thick muscle was cut through and snapped out of the way. Hojo made small noises of interest at some of the reactions, until he finally reached the nerves and severed them. His face burning red with pain, Vincent screamed. It had hurt a lot more than he thought it would. He began to wonder if the freezing was starting to wear off.

The pain soon lessened into a dull ache, but only slightly into his upper arm. Everything from the tourniquet down felt completely dead. Hs heart rate ran frantically, breath following the rhythm. He knew his face was red, and pretty sure he was crying, but the gunman refused to turn to look at what he'd done. Both for fear of seeing what had become of his arm, and showing Hojo his pain.

"Hmm… can you move with just these tendons cut?"

Vincent bit his lip, growling at the voice. "Fuck you."

Hojo just shrugged, taking the fact that the arm had gone completely limp as a 'no'.

He worked for what not only seemed like, but was literally days, just cutting and re-attaching the different muscles to see which ones worked. Only taking breaks to rest his weakened hand. Which, unfortunately, didn't seem to be broken. He didn't even bother to freeze it again. Maybe it didn't cross his mind, or he just didn't care to.

With the aid of the Mako, Vincent's body assisted Hojo quite well with being able to test and continue. He eventually discovered that there were in fact some muscles that could be severed and still allow for movement. With the nerve endings severed, pain would be no issue in hindering movement, and the scientist made sure to test every option, jotting down notes of his discoveries.

Finally, Hojo ruffled his hands through the dark hair, heading for the door. "You're a very good toy, do you realize that?"

The touch caused Vincent to jerk his head away, finally catching a glimpse of his arm. He stared in horror, at his strongest hand being reduced to a thin, limp looking mass of blood and tissue. His head slammed back, eyes closing against it, and screamed. "I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!!!!!"

Hojo just shrugged. "Oh well. I'm hungry." He flipped off the lights, and closed Vincent into the dark room again.

The Turk screamed in anguish, his entire body shaking with fury.

Cid reached a trembling hand toward the dimly lit silhouette. His breath was raged, not even able to feel the tears ghosting along his cheek. He had to keep telling himself that it was just an image. There was no way to run in and save his beloved from this pain. It wasn't possible to run in there and rip the restraints from his tortured body. To hold him. To rock the slender form in his arms, stroke his hair and tell him everything was going to be ok. He would take care of him. But he couldn't. The pilot could only just sit there helplessly, watching his dear Vincent suffer at the hands of that maniac.

He'd considered just cutting it off now. He could hold him now. That beautiful angel was waiting for him at home. Waiting so patiently for him to return from his lie. The pilot didn't really know how long he'd been down there, but there was no doubt the gunman was getting worried about him.

Cid shuffled in his pocket, searching for the cell phone Vincent had bought him. He normally didn't like to use the annoying little thing, but he made sure to take it on deliveries, just in case he needed it, and grabbed it so as not to arouse the ex-Turks' suspicion. He pushed in the numbers to his home, placing it to his ear. Nothing happened, and he cursed his idiocy. After dialing the number again, Cid hit 'send', then placed it back to his ear.

The pilot wiped his face on his shirt, as if Vincent could actually see him, as it rang.

"Valenwind residence." Came the drowsy, but very appreciated voice of his lover.

"Hey, baby. Sorry. Did I wake you up?" There was no way of telling time down in these old dusty rooms, and he hadn't even thought to check.

"Cid?" The voice seemed to perk up with hearing him. "Yea, but it's not a problem. Where are you? What's taking so long?"

"Didn't Yuffie give you my message?"

"Yea, but she didn't tell me anything other than that you'd been delayed. When I tried to ask her 'where you were' she ran."

Cid grunted, raking a hand through his hair. That stupid little ninja. You'd figure she'd have more tact than that.

"…… Is everything alright?"

The pilot jumped at the sudden question. "What? Y-yea… why?"

"You just sound like you're upset about something. Are you ok?"

"Yea yea, everything's alright. Somethin' just got stuck in my eye, and I can't get it out." He didn't feel the need to admit that what was stuck in his eye was the image of that damned monster hacking away at him.

"Aw, I'm sorry. So where are you?"

Er… the pilot thought for a bit, but actually managed to think of something quick enough to not make him suspicious. "We've had to make a few more stops, but we're around Kalm now." That sounded good… right?

"Oh. Well, do you need any help? It wouldn't take me long to get there."

"Nah. I got more than I can stand already. I don't want you to worry about it."

"It's not a problem."

"No." Cid bit his lip, growling at himself. He hadn't meant to snap at him.

Vincent was silent on the other end.

Cid sighed. "Sorry. I've been kinda on edge recently."

"That's ok. So, do you know when you'll be getting back? I can't sleep well without you here."

The pilot felt a lump settle into his throat. He began to wonder how long he had been down there. Maybe longer than he'd thought. "I'm not too sure. May be a good while now. Whenever the hell I'm able to escape from here."

Vincent sighed drearily. "Well, try to hurry. I'm not the only one that misses you." He chuckled softly. Oh, it felt so good to hear that laugh. "And you know how paranoid Chaos can get."

Cid laughed too. He knew all too well how far that demon's mind could wander. "Tell him ta put a sock in it. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Another laugh rang through the phone. "I'll make sure to tell him that."

"Heh."

"I've got a surprise for you, Vincent."

Cid jumped at hearing the scientist's voice ring over the speakers.

"… Who was that?"

"Er, uh, um." Cid stammered, not quite sure what to say. "It's just, uh Junior calling me."

"But I thought I heard my name… I know that voice."

"Of course ya do. It's Junior."

"Yea, but, Cid."

"Listen, Babe. I gotta go. I'll try to hurry back, alright?"

"O-ok."

"Love ya, Vince."

"I love you too, Cid."

"Bye." He flipped the phone closed, before Vincent fully had a chance to say good-bye. Which may not've been the best idea.

The chair screeched as he slid down into it, sighing. That was close. What the hell does he think he was doin, coming back on like that?

From what the pilot could gather, is that Hojo was beginning to show his own bizarre sense of compassion, by providing Vincent with some kind of protection for the now fragile arm. More like, he couldn't get it to stop bleeding, and it was driving him nuts.

He presented Vincent with a rather familiar piece of hardware. A large golden claw, specially crafted to fit snuggly over the exposed area. It was difficult to see what he was doing, but it seemed to involve something really hot, and Vincent having to bite his lip to keep from screaming again.

"There, perfect." Hojo sauntered around to the head of the table. He started to stroke the gunman's hair gently, in a manner, which if you didn't know any better, would say it was meant for comfort. Fortunately Cid and Vincent knew Hojo better than that, to recognize mocking when they saw it. "Those red eyes of yours' are creepy enough. I figured you'd need a claw to match. Hmph. I always thought the same about your father, but at least I got to test it with one of you." His voice lowered almost threateningly. "And I was right."

The doctor recoiled back, as a large wet wad hit his eye. "Well." He wiped his eye, shaking the excess spit at Vincent, and turned to leave. "You certainly do make a wonderful monster, don't you? But I need you to learn to obey me."

"I'll never do as you say." Vincent snapped, his voice dripping with venom.

The doctor stopped, glaring back at him. A wicked grin spread across his face. "Then it looks like we'll have to do this the hard way. Now won't we?"

Cid felt rather proud of Vincent. No matter what that sadistic bastard did to him, he never seemed to lose that defiant fire in his eyes. His glee soon subsided at the memory of when he first saw Vincent. The pilot began to wonder how long it was before that fire was extinguished. And what had happened to make it so.

xXx

Vincent groaned, finally drifting off to sleep. He hadn't been able to move in God-knows-how-long, and was feeling a bit restless. Thinking of the gunman still waiting at him, and most likely unable to sleep peacefully either, Cid reached for the button to skip ahead. He froze, however, seeing that familiar light flood the room from the door.

Hojo entered, but didn't bother to cut the overhead lights on. Instead, he proceeded to unhook the straps bounding Vincent to the table.

This was strange. He never unstrapped Vincent when he was sleeping. What was that deranged psychopath doing? Cid felt an intense fire burn in his stomach at the sight of those scrawny fingers unhook the buckle on Vincent's pants, and slide them off. He already had the young Turk stripped to the waist, why the hell did he need his pants off?

Vincent groaned, slowly beginning to realize that he could move again. He awoke fully, when Hojo threw him off the table, onto the hard slate ground. His arms and legs shook weakly, from being rendered immobile for so long. The overhead light was finally flipped on, and Vincent soon became aware that he was naked. He looked back drowsily at the scientist, who seemed rather angry.

"She's dead." He nearly growled.

Vincent's eyes widened in shock. He didn't even have to ask who he meant, just gasped. "How?"

Hojo turned angrily to him. "She's dead because of you!"

"What?"

He stormed over, kicking Vincent sharply in the shoulder, causing him to collapse fully onto the ground. "She killed herself. What kind of moron leaves a gun lying around a mentally idiotic bitch!?"

Vincent probably would've been enraged at how he had addressed the woman he loved, but the guilt over her death was almost too much for him to think straight, that he didn't even notice Hojo undoing his own pants. "My patience has grown short. I'm going to have to teach you a lesson."

The Turk glanced back, becoming aware of what his intents were. "Hell, no." He tried to scramble away, but his limbs were still too weak to carry him. In fact the only reason he wasn't laying completely limp on the floor was because of the golden claw that maniac had so graciously forced upon him.

"I don't think so." He twined his hand into Vincent's hair, which had gotten considerably long, dragging him back. "You keep pissing me off, and because of you, one of my test subjects is dead. You're going to face your punishment."

"NO!" Vincent screamed. He didn't even care for the chunks of his raven hair that was being torn out, in the struggle. He didn't want any part of that man near him.

Hojo jerked Vincent's head back, nearly snapping his neck. "You brought this upon yourself. Now, shut up and accept your punishment."

"No. No. NO! I left that gun for her protection. I didn't do anything! IT'S BECAUSE OF YOU THAT SHE KILLED HERSELF!!!" His voice cracked in anguish and desperation. Tears stained his face, body shaking with rage.

Hojo's other arm wrapped around the slender waist, grasping tightly onto Vincent's cock, the other hand shoving his face hard into the ground.

"NONONONONONONONONONO LET ME GO! DAMN YOU!!!!" His hands scratched desperately on the ground, cursing his current state of weakness.

Neither of them seemed to be fully prepared, as if it actually mattered, as Hojo tore into him, sheathing himself completely in the trembling body.

Vincent screamed, his tears swirling into the blood that'd pooled from his temple.

The doctor cursed the friction. "God damned virgins." He didn't let it bother him too much as he pulled out and thrust hard, once more inciting a high pitched scream from his victim. Vincent bit hard into his lip, trying to hold it back. There was no pleasure, or arousal in any sense. Only a sharp pain that threatened to severe his spine with each assault.

Apparently the non-existing pleasure didn't go both ways, as the young Turk could feel the vicious member hardening inside of him. It soon came violently, filling the small entrance, but not alleviating the assault until he had milked himself completely dry.

Hojo finally pulled out, allowing Vincent to fall to the ground, broken and bleeding. He stood, pulling up his pants, unable to resist the urge to spit on the whimpering form crumpled at his feet. Hojo just sneered. "Why do I hate you so much? Why does your pain become my pleasure?"

"I don't know." Vincent's voice was barely audible as he tried to push himself up. "But I think I have a pretty good reason to hate you now." He somehow managed to get to his feet lunging at the insane doctor, the golden claw heading straight for his throat.

Hojo jumped back his hand wrapping around a metal tank and slammed it across his attacker's head. Blood gushed from the contact point, as Vincent hit the lab table, his head spinning. Before he could regain his mental state, Hojo ran over strapping him face down onto the table. "You still try to defy me?" Vincent growled, pulling at the restraints.

The scientist walked calmly over to the mobile table, gently taking a scalpel in his hands. "You must want me to punish you some more." He stabbed the back of Vincent's left shoulder, streaking it across his shoulder blade. The Turk spat out profanities that had never before been heard from those lips. The words didn't faze him, as he proceeded to extend a line out from the middle of it, making another mark, on the other side, equivalent to the first.

Nearby, more marks were made, in the shape of a lopsided square, and a T after that. An extra line was added at the bottom of the latest mark. The cuts were surprisingly clean, despite the squirming protests from the canvass. Hojo finished off his signature with another lopsided square, and stabbed the sharp implement into Vincent's hip, inciting another stream of swears. "There." He twined his fingers through the black strands again, jerking the head up to look at him. "Now you're mine, Vincent. Don't you ever forget that."

A shower of sparks broke up the scene, as a hard fist crashed into the monitor. Cid buried his face in his hands and sobbed, ignoring the glass and blood trailing his knuckles. So many of Vincent's reactions came crashing together just from that one display of brutality. He had stopped Vincent from burning his back with a Fire Materia, but could never get him to explain why. The gunman's body was so crisscrossed with scars that he never stopped to think that they'd said anything. Vincent never really showed his back to Cid long enough to really see anything.

Even the first time they made love.

Why Vincent insisted on being on top for so long. Cid remembered how long it took him to get his lover to trust him enough to allow him to prove his devotion. It all made sense. The tears streaming from his eyes. The fear and tension dripping from his body. He should've know it was that monster's fault. That son of a bitch had defiled him. Taken his beloved's innocence so brutally that it was a miracle Vincent ever allowed Cid to have it.

The pilot crushed the glass further into his hands, to try and deviate the pain from his heart. It didn't work. That image was burned into the back of his eyes lids, and he could see it every time he closed his eyes.

--

_AN: :raincloud: well... i'm getting better *hideface* i'm about to cry, but i can at least stomach to write it now. _

_i stopped twice before getting to the last scene, and it kept playing through my head, both when i slept, and in class.... i'm just like i need to finish this, now... it needs to get out of my head. i had actually considered drawing it, but i didn't much feel like having to lose my hand._

_i had actually done research for the part where he was messing with his hands, because i figure Hojo would know sergical terms, right. But i really didn't feel like going into details. There are so many different names for those muscles, and i didn't know which ones were which anyway  
(and i had actually cried whenever i found out Vincent used to be left handed, a while ago)_


	4. Chapter 4

"Cid, what are you doing?" Tifa found the pilot fiddling with the machines deep in the hidden rooms of ShinRa Manor.

"I broke the monitor. I'm just trying to rig something up so I can finish."

"No. I mean, why are you still down here watching this stuff? You've been down here over a week. Vincent's been asking about you. He's really getting worried." She grabbed the pilot's arm, to verify he was listening. "I don't like lying to him, Cid."

He twisted his arm away. "Then don't. Just keep yer yap shut."

Tifa groaned, folding her arms. "He's coming by the bar. Said he stopped by Kalm, and you weren't there. You know how paranoid Vincent can get."

Cid shook his head, trying to hide a knowing grin. Chaos has probably been yappin the poor guy's ears off. "It's taking me a while to fix this thing. I just have to know one last thing, then I'm outta here."

"Grr, Cid! You're not listening." She shook his arm. "We're all worried about you. None of us think that what you're doing down here is good. Who knows what seeing all of this could do to your psyche. Besides, what if Vincent finds out? What are you going to do?"

Cid shrugged her off, continuing his work. "He doesn't have to know."

"Vincent's not stupid, Cid."

"Y'know you all seem to keep saying that. I know he's not fuckin stupid. Vince's the smartest guy in our whole damn group."

"Then you know how easy it would be for him to find out. Can you really risk it?"

"Tsch. You make it sound like Vince'll leave me for watchin this."

"You don't know what'll happen. I guarantee Vincent doesn't want you seeing him like this. He's already frightened of what you think of him. Who's to say this won't scare him off?"

Cid waved a dismissive hand at her, then actually thought about it. Damn, it made too much sense to not consider as an option. He continued to fiddle with the wiring some more, until finally the screen shone the menus. He sighed, flopping down into the chair. "I've already seen too much."

"But, you can stop now." She crouched down next to the chair, keeping her voice at a calm, reasoning tone. "There's no need for you to watch this anymore."

Cid lit a cigarette. He'd actually forgotten about them since he'd been in there. "But I haven't yet found the one thing I wanted to know." He turned to Tifa, trying to find some way for his logic to make sense. "If I know how they got in there, maybe I can get them out. Then, I won't have to hear Vincent crying anymore. He can finally just live peaceful again. I just wanna help him, Tifa."

"But, Cid." She grasped his arm gently, still trying to reason with the stubborn man. "Vincent's already suffered through these pains. We don't need two of you messed up by them. Besides… I don't think Vincent could ever be normal again." She nearly bit her tongue off, immediately regretting the words. It was a well known fact that reminding the pilot that his husband wasn't normal always shut his ears off to any further argument.

The pilot took in a large drag of his cigarette, letting it out in small rings. "I just need to know one more thing."

xXx

Having finally found the breaking point, Hojo just pushed it further, until the young Turk finally began to crumble in his hands. The bastard didn't even bother dressing his victim again.

Vincent mainly lay awake when he was alone. No longer wishing to give into the sweet escape of sleep, possibly because it was now tainted with pain and fear. His eyes, which still shone so brilliantly in the dark depths, were becoming hollow and listless as he began to sink deeper into himself. What pained the pilot more was that the blantant defiance was slipping away. The dark haired man was slowly starting to envelope himself in the words of the doctor. Actually believing that he deserved to suffer like this. That everything that'd happened to him, and would happen… every pain in his life was just bad karma for what he'd done. For his sins. For things he had no way of controlling, or even stopping, no matter how hard he tried.

That first assault was the only time the blame was ever directed towards Hojo.

At times, a haunting melody arose from the gunman's lips. One that sounded so familiar. Cid had caught his lover singing it at times when he was feeling particulaly down. He was always amazed at how beautiful even his voice was. Despite the deep rasp when he talked, there was a heartbreakingly hypnotic lul to his voice when he sang. Notes hit in a surpising tenor. As far as the pilot knew, it wasn't English. Most likely Wutainese, seeing as how the man was nearly fluent in it, but any time the pilot asked about the melody he would mearly respond that it was a lullaby. Never elaborating on the meaning of the words, or even where he'd heard it before, but the sheen in his eyes as he sang it told him that it wasn't a topic he was quite ready to delve into.

Cid just couldn't help but stare at his beloved as he slowly broke before his eyes. Knowing full and well that he needed to hurry. He'd wasted too much time down here, but those aching eyes entranced him. It wasn't a feeling he could completely make logical. The man before him, what he had become, was so close to him anyway. He could just go home right now, and hold him. Tell him those things he had said many times before. That he would hold him, protect him. He never got tired of saying it, and he knew Vincent never got tired of hearing it.

But he loved this man too. The one in the screen. The one in so much pain, that was making him even doubt his own morals. Causing him to even forget all the training he'd endured to withstand any kind of torture. The man he couldn't reach. Cid had a far stronger desire to hold this man just out o f his reach. Completely ignoring the fact that he didn't know him. That knowledge alone was enough to break the pilot's heart. The beautiful young man in front of him was suffering… and he was all alone. There was no sign of anyone coming. Why wasn't someone there to get him out? Wasn't anyone looking for him? Wondering where he'd been all this time? Didn't he have a partner? Why did it seem like Cid was the only one caring about this man… desiring to help him?

"I've got good news for you, Vincent."

Cid's eyes fell with a scowl onto the new intruder, but Vincent didn't seem willing to face him.

"You're going to kill me?"

The seriousness of his tone sent a chill through Cid's limbs, only increased at the shrill laugh that followed the statement.

"You're so foolish. Why would I want to kill you? You're one of my favorite toys." The small silver case he was carrying fell hard onto the table. Vincent's eyes shifted to it, but he wasn't willing to turn towards Hojo. "I'm finally convinced that your body can withstand the real reason I wanted you."

Vincent didn't say anything, just kept his head stareing straight towards the ground opposite of where the doctor was standing. Maybe he didn't care, or perhaps just afraid to say the wrong thing.

Cid, however, stared intently, on the edge of his seat, biting his finger.

Hojo leaned over the case, smiling broadly. "How much do you know about the apocalypse?"

Still Vincent said nothing. Pretending to ignore the doctor's rambling.

The silver clasped on the case began to release, under the thin fingers. "There's stories about it. About Armagehden, Rapture, whatever you want to call it. Either way it's all the same. The world is going to end, and only those worthy will make it to the Promised Land." He grasped hold of the case, not seeming to want to expose the contents just yet. One clasp still connecting the two parts. "What if I told you that I wanted you to help me with that?"

The crimson eyes shifted back towards him, still not allowing his head to turn.

The sickening grin widened even further. "What do you know about the ones who are supposed to cause it?" He waited momentarilly, as if Vincent was really going to answer. "Something about, Horsemen, right? WRONG!... They're demons."

The sight of Vincent's quickened breaths at the word made the grin turn to a more menacing snear. The final clasp was undone, releasing the pent up frost that was trapped inside. Hojo opened the case fully, to reveal four black orbs, which looked a lot like materia, except for the swirls of color inside each of the small orbs. The colored lights flitted frantically, as if they were alive. Hojo lifted one up into his hands, watching with glee at the small yellow blip that went crazy with his touch. "Do you know what this is, Vincent?" He leaned over the gunman's body, holding the orb in front of his eyes.

The crimson eyes widened at the sight of it, seemingly entraced by the dancing spectical.

"This is a Summon's Materia. But it's not the same as you may know it." He pulled it back, amuzed that the young Turk's eyes followed it, to see the others as well. "This one orb here habors the soul of Chaos. Possibly the strongest of the four great demons. Unfortunately, they can't be summoned like all the others. These four need a host's body in order to develop and manifest into the real world."

Vincent's breathing harshened, his heart pounding into his chest, as the reality of the doctor's words began to clearify themselves.

Hojo stared straight into the now frightened eyes. "These little beauties were uncovered during an escavation a few years ago." A knowing grin spread over his face once more. "Grimoire was the one to locate them for us. Wasn't that so kind of him? Too bad he isn't still around to see them put to use."

"Shut up!" Vincent spat in annoyance. The mear mention of that name seemed to spark that old defiance in his eyes.

"What? I didn't do anything."

Vincent turned away, trying to hide his tears from the diranged scientist. "You have no right to speak his name. You don't know him."

The shrill laugh filled the room once more. "It seems you were the one who didn't know him to well."

"SHUT UP!!!" His eyes flared upon him, still fighting back the stubborn tears.

Cid leaned closer to the screen, twisting his fingers. "Who's Grimoire?"

The rage just seemed to amuze Hojo, where others may be cowering. Then again, if you had the one man that hated you the most in the whole planet strapped down, you wouldn't be all that worried either.

"I've been rather curious to test something." Hojo proceeded, completely ignoring that he had angered his subject. "These demons have been released before. In so many different types of people, but someone always manages to seal them away again." He examined the small orb, still clasped in his grimey little fingers. "I wonder how well they'll function if they're all hosted by the same body."

Vincent nearly felt his heart stop at those words. He was hoping maybe he'd just put one in, but all four!? How the hell would he be able to stand that?

"Hmm." Hojo placed the orb neatly back into the case, sliding on a pair of gloves. "Now, where would be the best axcess point?" He lifted a scalpel, tapping it lightly across Vincent's skin, causing his body to tense at the points of each icy touch. "Here, maybe?" The sharp blade slid, just short of piercing his delicate skin, along the crease of the pale stomach. "Perhaps not. They need a good point to fully fuze into your system. Perhaps here?" Vincent's breath caught, as he slid closer to his heart. Anxiety beginning to set in while he watched the menacing blade, examine his skin.

It was innevitable what was going to happen, but there was still the unknown. There was no way of predicting just what kind of effect those demons would have on his body.

"Aha." The sudden voice, caused Vincent to jump, freeing the tears forming in the corner of his eyes. "There's typically a strong current connecting through here." The blade traced along from his heart, to the crease in his shoulder. "And I've already got a start." The blade slinked into the recently closed stab wound in his shoulder, causing Vincent to hiss at it. Hojo dragged it down, straight to the gunman's heart, pushing in hard all the way. Blood seeped from where Vincent's teeth dug into his bottom lip, in a nearly futile attempt to stiffle a scream.

Hojo grabbed some clamps, from the nearby table, using them to pry the wound open, and keep it there. Vincent's body trembled from a terrible mix of fear and pain. His eyes fell towards the camera, giving Cid a very good look into those desperate eyes, still somehow managing to hold onto the last bit of hope he had left.

The gleaming eyes closed tightly as, one by one, the dark orbs were inserted into the wound, neatly lined along the cut, in an order that the pilot recognized as his limit order, with Chaos closest to his heart.

Vincent's held breath began to quicken as they were set into place, feeling them slowly sinking into his skin.

"Ha, there." Hojo beamed with pride, as he removed the clamps, watching for Vincent's reaction.

The gleaming red eyes were wide with fear, staring blankly at the ceiling, his breath laboring harder and harder the more time passed. A bright light seemed to trace along the fresh cut, mending it back together. When the wound fully healed, Vincent's body bucked as much as the restraints would allow. He gasped, his breathing growing harsher and unsteady. Finally, after pushing up into the restraints, the gunman's head fell back, eyes closing and he screamed, his body convulsing violently on the table.

Hojo stepped back a bit, his eyes wide with amazment at the sight before him.

Vincent's eyes sprang back open, a mix of yellow, orange, blue, and violet tainting their beautiful red color, unrestrained tears streaking up into his hair, his screams reaching an earsplitting pitch.

After another fit of screams, the lithe body seemed to fall limp to the table. His eyes staired vacantly into the opposite wall, all five souls flickering though them. Anyone would have thought he was dead, if it wasn't for the sharp rise and fall of his chest.

Hojo just sat back and watched him, waiting for more. "Is that it? No form change? Not even a show of hightening strength?" He stepped closer, a bit disapointed. "Hmm. Though it is incredible the rate he healed. I wonder if it was just for that?" holding out the scalpel once more, Hojo proceeded to cut into the tender flesh. It healed instantly, nearly right behind the blade, leaving a thin red line in it's wake. His eyes sparked with discovery. "Astounding." He grabbed the small notepad, scribbling notes onto the blood-stained paper. The knife continued to dance across Vincent's skin, as it's master tested the healing ability in different areas. He discovered that the further away he got from the initial insicion, the longer it took for the cut to heal. Not much longer, mind you, but still enough to be noticed. He began to wonder if it mattered the size of the wound, when something even more interesting caught his eye.

The golden claw, in which he'd made special for the occasion seemed to be responding rather strangley. The glistening tips were emitting a almost pixelated green energy. Curiosity got the better of the scientist, and he unstrapped the metal claw, beginning to remove the casing. Not even realizing that the gunman's eyes had shifted to the movement, now trimmed with a glowing yellow light.

Hojo's eyes widened, ignoring that his glasses had fallen down nearly off his nose. He had heard of skin growing back once it's removed, but nothing like this. The gunman's entire left forearm, from where he had altered it, was completely covered in an all new skin, that didn't even come close to matching the normally pale tone.

It was blackened, charred looking, and the still sparking tips extending into fine sharp claws.

The doctor ran a hand against the smooth surface, unable to foresee what happened next. With a fierce growl, the demon hand snapped up around his throat. The rest of the leather straps ripped like paper against the power of the demon, allowing the gunman's body to stand. His entire form seemed to emit an almost white aura, illuminating his skin.

Hojo managed to release himself from the grip, his glasses slipping from his face, watching in horror at the creature before him. The body learched forward, as two large bat wings ripped through his back, showering blood along behind him. Yellow eyes gleamed maliciously, lips curling to reveal a mouth full of sharp fangs.

He approahced Hojo, causing him to back into the wall. The doctor's eyes stayed fixed upon him, shifting back and forth to the table laying a few feet away. Dealing with all kinds of monsters he had tranquilizers ready in case he needed it. It was so close, but from the blood lust in the glowing eyes, it made the distance seem much further.

Finally Hojo lunged for the syringe, his fingers clasping around it, just as the demon's claws dug straight into his sides. He cringed, stabbing it into the slim neck, even paler than it had been before.

He growled, throwing him across the room, to crash hard into one of the counters, inciting a pained cry. The dark demon hand, jerked the needle from his neck, checking to see it was empty. A low rumble echoed in his throat, smashing it in his fist, and glared up at Hojo again. "Hojo."

Hojo flinched, hearing the malice leaking from his name, as he sat still on the floor.

The gunman stepped closer, eyes sparking like fire. "I will see to it you die screaming by my hands." It was Vincent's voice, but it seemed to be tainted by something else. Something more thirsty for blood.

Cid watched in fixed horror. He recognized the voice immediately, as Chaos, but he'd completely forgotten how menacing that beast really was.

Hojo fought to push himself up, unable to contain his shaking. "Why? Why would you want to kill me?"

"What?" He growled, eyes lowering at the statement.

"Well… I freed you. I offered you a suitable host, so you wouldn't be trapped within those materia anymore." He was slowly beginning to realize that he wasn't completely talking to Vincent.

"FREED US!?" A high shrill voice echoed over the room, shaking it's victim to the core, at the sight of the yellow eyes, swirling a more violet color. "You trapped us all within the same body."

"How are we supposed to function under such circumstances?" His voice altered to a low growl, eyes flickering to a more orangish tint.

"Well. I just figured you wanted a better way to travel in a group."

The slim body rushed the doctor, slamming him hard against the wall, demon hand clamped tightly around his neck. A chill ran through his body at the glowing baby blue orbs, now sparking with rage, despite the gentle color. "Wrong answer." This voice seemed deeper than all the others, with more of a distinct rasp to it.

"No I want to kill him."

"No I will."

"Who gave you the right to decied?"

"I want to kill him."

"He's mine."

"No mine."

Vincent's eyes flashed violently, his grip releasing from the pasty neck. He stumbled back, grasping his head, the different voices continueing to debate the doctor's fate. Finally Vincent fell to his knees, somehow managing to squeeze out a sharp scream towards the relentless squabbles in his mind.

Hojo scrambled over to the opposite counter, snatching a trank gun from the wall. He loaded it, firing off a few rounds at the torn body.

He screamed with each shot, lunging at the doctor again. His demon hand clamped around his throat once more, but there was sadly no force behind it. His grip soon laxed, the body falling limply to the ground.

His eyes still remained open, still flashing the five colors of the occupants, but he lay motionless on the cold hard ground. The wings shrunk back into his skin, leaving behind two long scars streaking along either side of his spine.

Hojo heaved a sigh of relief, falling against the counter to try and catch his breath.

He had some assistants roll in a new table, bolting it into the ground, and move the limp body back onto it. What used to be leather buckles, were now steal restraints, each with thick locks and chains. They weren't going to take any more chances of having him loose again. Not until they knew how to control it.

--

_AN: omg i'm almost done. just one more chapter (maybe two if i decide to add the random scene) haha join me next time for more reasons why Hojo needs to suffer... which isn't actually anymore in this story... so yay_

_my spellcheck thingy seems to be messed up, so a don't know if everything in here is spelled right ^^;_


	5. Chapter 5

The pilot slunked up to his front door, still shaking from the horrid events he'd witnessed. He'd desroyed every file that he could locate of them, but the images still hung behind his eyes. It was really late, and a chill coursed through his body. He had no clue what time it was. Hell, he didn't even know how long he'd been gone. He'd be surprised if Vincent wasn't off scouring the planet for him.

The key sounded heavily in the lock, making him flinch. If Vincent was still in there, he didn't want to disturb him. The poor guy had probably passed out by now. Cid pushed the door open, entering the dark house. He sighed, closing the door gently behind him. A hand scrubbed his chin. The stubble on his face had gotten considerably long in his absence. However; just as he was heading upstairs, he became aware of the light coming from within the den.

His jaw dropped. Was he really still up?

Quietly, he sneaked into the room, peering over the back of the couch. Sure enough, there lay his beautiful husband, curled up on the couch… sleeping. A smile crept onto the pilot's face. After seeing those eyes screaming with agony, it was good to see them closed in the gentle retreat of sleep. The gunman's arms were wrapped around his body, clutching the shirt he was wearing. That's when Cid noticed something a bit strange. He'd never seen Vincent wear that shirt before.

It was nearly twice as big as he was, buttons connecting it all the way up the front. The blue and red flanel, complete with a large rip on the collar, and oil stains trailing along the hem. Cid tried to stiffle a laugh. He hadn't even worn that shirt all that much, til he met Vincent. Red and blue were just two colors he never used to think went well together.

Cid just wanted to stay there and watch him sleep. He'd always loved watching Vincent sleep, but this time he couldn't even tear his eyes away from him. Vincent sighed, his head falling to the side, knocking loose hairs over his face. Without even thinking about it, Cid reached a hand down, brushing the strands aside. His fingers traced along the delicate curves of the gunman's cheekbones, on down to his lips. Cid followed his hand, moving around to sit down on the couch next to the sleeping form. His eyes softened, beginning to tear slightly, as the pale lips reacted to his touch, parting slightly to let out a gentle moan. Cid's fingers continued on down, sliding along the soft skin of his lover's left arm, gently taking the hand in his. It was incredible how the gunman reacted to him. It was as if he still desperately craved the pilot's touch… even in his sleep.

Slowly, Cid leaned forward, wrapping his lips around his lover's, craddling the lax hand gently in his own. A subtley appreciative moan, flowed into his mouth, the lips acting as if they wanted to push back, his hand closing around the ones embracing him.

The pilot pulled back, biting his lip, as he watched those crimson eyes flutter slightly, not fully wanting to open. They clenched back, the connecting body stretching out so he could try to awaken. The reality that there was someone there, beginning to dawn on him. He finally opened his eyes, staring at the figure before him, trying to make out who it was, then rubbed his eyes.

Cid smiled, tracing a hand along the side of his face. "Hey, beautiful."

Vincent gasped, immediately recognizing the voice. "Cid?" His eyes sparked and he shot up, throwing his arms around his husband, tears nesting against his cheeks. "Cid! I missed you so much. Where have you been?"

Cid just smiled, pulling him tighter, still fighting against his own tears. It felt so good to hear that voice laced with love, instead of pain. "I was fighting with something really bad. But I was thinking of you the whole time. I'm sorry I was gone so long."

"It's ok. I'm just so glad you're finally back. Just one day away form you is torture."

Torture.

The word hit Cid straight in the gut, like a knife twisting up towards his heart. Why did he have to say that?

"Cid?" Vincent had moved back from the embrace, worry etched into his face, tears glistening against the pale skin. "What's wrong?" He brushed a hand under Cid's eye, proving that he was crying as well.

Cid wiped his face, smiling to his husband. "Vince, have I ever told you how incredible you are?"

Vincent smiled, blushing slightly. He didn't appreciate the change in subject, but it didn't really matter right now. "You say it quiet often, actually."

The pilot brushed a hand against his face. "Well I mean it more and more, every time."

"Oh, Cid. Ouch!"

Cid jumped back in horror, as a thin cut on the gunman's cheek, closed into an even thinner red mark. He'd hurt him! Ohmygod, he had hurt Vincent! He'd added another scar to that beautiful face! "I'm so sorry." He spat out, in a near panic.

Vincent touched a hand to his cheek, wiping off the small trace of blood that still lingered, examining the red liquid now on his fingers. "It's ok. But how did you *gasp* ohmygod, Cid! What happened to your hand!?"

"Huh? What?" Cid looked down at his hand, having completely fogotten about the glass still lodged into his skin. "Oh… that's nothing. Vince, I hurt you."

"What are you talking about?" He took the pilot's hand in his, examining it. "Oh my-Cid, there's glass in your hand. It's all red and infected. Why didn't you get this looked at?"

Cid shrugged. "Guess I didn't really think about it. But I scratched you."

Vincent's eyes fixed on him like 'will you shut up'. "Cid that's nothing. It's already healed, see?"

"Yea, but… you have another scar… because of me."

The pained glistening in his lover's eyes began to explain to Vincent just why he was so upset about it. He sighed, placing the hand back on the pilot's lap. "Let me tend to your hand, before we start up with this."

He darted into the kitchen. A few clinks from the cabnet could be heard, followed by running water, and Vincent came back with a bowl. He sat back down on the couch, folding his legs in, and placed the pilot's hand into the bowl. It burned from the salt mixed in with the hot water, making the pilot cringe.

Vincent sighed. "It's not even bleeding, now."

"Just use a cure materia on it."

Vincent looked up at CId, then leaned forward to kiss him, running a hand along the side of his face. "I have to get the glass out first, silly."

The corner of Cid's lips cocked in response to his lover's bright smile. He was so beautiful. So amazing. So strong to be able to smile like that, after what he'd been through.

He'd done that.

Vincent ran his fingers along the pilot's hand, searching for the shards, and pulled them out. A cloud of red liquid swirled into the water, and Vincent sighed from relief. "Oh good." He searched for more, carefully plucking them out one by one.

Cid had brought that smile back to the gunman's lips. The spark of hope back to his eyes. And the love back to his voice. He was even able to rip those heartwrenching screams from his beloved's dreams. The pilot was finding his own smile again. Because Vincent allowed him to love him. Because he trusted him, he was able to pull him from the darkness. Able to show him that life didn't have to be as full of sin and pain as he had thought.

"I love you."

Vincent's attention snapped away from his work, at the sudden confession. His face softened into a smile. "I love you too, Cid."

Cid leaned over to envelope his love in a kiss. It grew hungrier, from their starvation of being apart for so long. Vincent's arms moved to hold onto the pilot's strong neck. He was only able to get his head together, at the feel of a wet hand, sliding around his waist. "Cid, your hand?"

"It doesn't hurt."

"Yea but-mmm-" He was silenced with another ravaging kiss, the other hand, holding onto him. Vincent gasped as the bowl tipped slightly, from Cid's movements, staining the shirt further with the hot-bloody water.

Cid grasped the bowl, throwing it onto the floor, as gently as his libito would allow, without spilling the contents any further. With the final obsticle out of the way, the pilot held his passion closer, his hands worming their way into the loose shirt.

Vincent moaned against the lips, vibrating the thick muscle which now invaded his mouth. It seemed like an eternity since he'd felt that touch. The sensation of those hands warming his skin sent blood rushing downward at break-neck spead. A cry spilled from his lips, his stomach twisting into heat, as that soft kiss expertly caressed each sensative area around his ears.

The motion of the pilot's hands, pushing up into the front of the slender form, caused a few of the buttons to escape the hole, and allow him to explore further.

Fingers raked down Cid's back, pulling at the annoying shirt confining his skin. He groaned with the touch, breathing heavily in the ear so close to his lips. Cid's restraints were beginning to break, his hands ripping the worn shirt open, a few buttons flying across the room.

He stared down at the panting form, entranced by the movements the breathing brought to the angelic body. It was incredible. Over six years together, and his passion for this beautiful creature hadn't even began to dim. They still craved each other like a child for candy. That had to be it. Vincent was a lot sweeter than anyone else seemed to realize. In both character, and taste. "I love you." He never felt like he could say it enough. The smile those three words brought to his lover's lips made his heart melt.

Vincent slid the shirt from his arms, throwing it to the floor, as he sat up. He pulled the pilot's shirt over his head, kissing him desperately. "I need you."

They kissed again, not seeming able to get enough of each other's taste. Both thrilled to finally savor the feel of their skin touching. Warming each other with the rising heat of their bodies.

Cid's fingers gently traced along the marks in the gunman's back. He gasped, tears squeezing from his eyes again.

"Cid?" Vincent inquired, wondering why he'd stopped. "Cid, what's wrong?"

He'd always done so, and Vincent had gotten used to, and liked, the gentle touch of those fingers tracing his sensative skin, but this time was different. It was really there. The vicious marks that madman had claimed him with. How the hell hadn't he noticed this before?

"Cid?" Vincent wiped away the relentless tears, examining his face, true concern etched into those crimson eyes. "What's wrong, hon? Why'd you stop?"

Cid drew in a breath, biting his trembling lip, a hand coming up to angrilly wipe his face. No, he couldn't cry. Not for that, at least. Not in front of Vincent.

Vincent's eyes began to tear again, from worry, as he tried to get him to move his hand. "Cid. Tell me what's wrong."

Cid shook his head, trying to smile. "Nothing. It's nothing, I'm ok."

"No… you're not." The ex-Turk clutched his lover tightly, beginning to rock him. "Did something happen?"

'Not to me.' He thought, grasping desperately to the concerned man holding him. "No, I just missed you so much." He started to sob, soon able to feel a gentle hand tracing through his hair.

"It's ok, now. You're back in my arms, where you belong."

Cid burried his face into the crook of Vincent's neck, kissing the sensative skin in front of him. "Heh. That sounds a bit familiar."

Vincent laughed, squeezing his shoulders. "You just know I've been waiting for an excuse to say it."

The pilot smiled, breathing in his soft scent. "I bet you have." He kissed his neck again, causing an odd giggle to excape his lover's lips. It was uncharacteristic, and he hadn't heard it much, but the sound was simply adorable. Another kiss, and Cid started to discover what was causing it. The pilot badly needed to shave. His lips traced along the soft skin of his neck. With him still straddling his lover's waist, it was easy to dominate the superior height and rediscover the reason he needed the comfort in the first place.

A shift in the slender shoulder, and Cid looked to see those pained crimson eyes glistening with sorrow. He didn't even have to ask, and Vincent shook his head.

"Can I see?"

He breathed out, shaking his head harder, tears sliding down his cheeks, as he tried to push the marks into the back of the couch.

"Vince-"

"No, Cid." Vincent gasped, a bit desperate.

Cid's eyes softed, brushing away the tears. "Please, Vincent. I need to see it."

"I-I can't."

"Why?"

The gunman's eyes widened. Cut off guard by the obsurd question. "I just can't."

Cid sighed, lacing his fingers through the soft raven strands , drawing the head closer to kiss him. I already know, Baby."

"What!?" Vincent cried, nearly jumping over the back of the couch, if Cid wasn't still sitting on him.

The pained blue eyes softened. "I know what it says."

"No you don't! How could you!?"

Cid jerked back, a bit scared to realize Vincent was starting to shove him away. "Vincent, please. I'm not lying. I know what it says. I just want to-"

"Shut up!" He finally shoved Cid off of him, grasping his shirt from the floor, and sliding it on as he stood. "How could you possibly know what it says?" He didn't even wait for an answer, but darted up the stairs, before he was unable to stop himself from crying.

"Vincent, wait!" Cid jumped from the couch, running after him.

The door slammed shut, while he was still down the hall. Cid grabbed the handle, and twisted sharply to realize it was locked. He banged on the door, still trying to turn the handle. "Vincent, Baby, please open the door."

There was no answer. Not even a sign of movement.

Cid dropped his head against the door, cursing himself. What the hell was he thinking? This was not how he wanted to spend his first night back with Vincent. "Vincent, please. I'm sorry. I know how uncomfortable you are with it. I shouldn't have tried to force ya. I'm sorry, just let me in. I don't want our first night together to go like this." He started crying, still knocking on the door. "Please, Baby."

Again, all he received was silence. Cid knew Vincent got like this sometimes. He'd lock himself in their room, if he said something wrong, occasional wanting Cid to follow him. But at those times, he would at least respond. Whether he was telling him to 'leave him alone' or even a slight teasing 'bite me'. But it was when the gunman refused to respond, that would tell Cid he fucked up.

xXx

Having finally lamented to letting the gunman cool down, Cid had gone to take a shower. He exited the bathroom, freshly shaven, steam, from the water, still rising off his tanned shoulders. A white towel was wrapped around his waist. He had made sure to get the rest of the glass form his hand. It was still really red, but at least it didn't look all that bad.

The cloths he was wearing really stunk, and it didn't seem like a good idea to put them back on. Hopefully there were some cloths in the wash, or he'd just have to sleep naked on the couch tonight. Either way it didn't matter. A lot of times, Vincent would come down and join him to make up for whatever seemingly petty reason he was angry. Like he said earlier, he really did need him. And the ex-Turk honestly couldn't sleep peacefully without those strong arms holding him.

Besides, neither of them could stay angry with the other for too long.

Cid started downstairs, casting a longing glance in the direction of their bedroom. Was he seeing things, or was the door open slightly?

He crept over to double check, and sure enough it was. The familiar smell of cinnimon began to fill his nose. That would explain why the lights were out… Vincent seemed to love that candle. The door grunted slightly as it opened, allowing Cid to peer in. He was a bit shocked to see his husband sitting on the floor in front of him, wearing that black satin robe he'd gotten him when the gunman started 'spending the night'.

The crimson eyes gleamed brilliantly in the dark room as they turned up to him, making the pilot's heart stop. The images of them being the only thing he could see in that cold room began to flood his mind. So many sparks of emotion he'd seen reflected in them.

"I'm sorry."

Cid jumped at the sudden words. "What?"

The luminous orbs closed, soon seen to be shifting down. "You were right. This isn't how we should be spending this night. I overreacted, and I'm sorry."

The pilot's eyes softened. Why the hell did he think he needed to apologize? "It's alright, Vincent. I know I shouldn't have asked about it."

"No, it's not." Vincent stood, finally allowing Cid to see his face in the flickering candle light, on the opposite side of the bed. "I love you, Cid." He watched his hands, tracing along the bare broad chest, softened by the stil lingering droplets, coming to rest on his shoulders. "You're my husband. I shouldn't hide anything from you." His eyes turned up to him, glistening with more than just Mako. "And, for that, I'm sorry."

Cid just smiled, lacing his fingers through the soft black hair, and pulled the head down to meet his lips. "You have nothing to apologize for. Hell, the mear fact that you've been able to hide it from me for so long is nothing short of a miracle."

Vincent laughed slightly, wrapping his arms around him. His head fell down on his lover's shoulder, basking in the warm scent rising from his skin, as they held each other close. Cid's hands ran along the gunner's back, his caloused fingers catching in the delicate fabric. "It's alright, Vince. It can't be a good thing for ya to remember. And I don't want to see you in pain again."

Vincent pulled back to examine his sincere eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes he'd grown to love and trust. He began to wonder how much this wonderful man knew. A contented smile crept onto Vincent's face, as he reached out to flip the lights on. He then turned his back to him, untying the sash, of his robe.

Cid stepped forward, grasping his shoulders, before the thin fabric could fall. "Vince… ya don't have ta."

He just smiled, moving the hands away. "Yes… I do."

Vincent dropped the back of the robe, stopping just above his waist. His head fell slightly, still ashamed, but resolved for him to know. Cid felt his heart stop. It was clear now how he was able to hide it. The marks were reduced to nothing more than thin raised lines against his pearl skin. The large scars trailing down the sides of his back, overpowered them in both color and size, from constant re-opening.

But it was really there. All of it was seeming all too real. Those screams and swears filled his mind, unable to allow him to think. Cid reached out, trying to reach the man that was in front of him, rather than the one he kept seeing. The reality that they really were one finally hitting him.

His hands came to rest on the thin shoulders, causing their owner to jump, glancing back at him. Vincent's breath caught in his throat, still so afraid of the pilot's reaction. Now that he knew he was claimed by another man.

Cid's lips, brushed against the sensative flesh, sending a chill through the gunman's body. He cut off the cold, wrapping his strong arms around Vincent's body, pulling him tightly back against him. Vincent's eyes closed, trying to fight back his shame.

"There's nothin there, Vince."

"What?" Vincent's eyes sprang open, turning to look at him. "What do you mean, 'there's nothing there?'"

Cid just smiled, pulling the robe back over his shoulders, tying it back. "Just what I said." He pulled him in to kiss him. "Absolutely nothing."

Vincent just stared at Cid, utterly confused. How could there be nothing there? He remembered so vividly the day it was done. "But… how?"

Cid's smile just broadened, holding the dumbfounded man tightly in his arms. He kissed the pale neck in front of him, where his head had landed on the shoulder. "Don't look at me like that. It makes me feel stupid."

"… Likewise."

"Hehe but you're cute when you look stupid."

Vincent laughed, clutching onto the broad shoulders in front of him. "I love you, Cid."

Cid pulled around, kissing him. "I'd sure as hell hope so."

"Cid."

Those blue eyes softened, now able to focus fully on his husband. "I love you too, Vince." Their lips met again, in a more passionate manner. Vincent moved back to sit on the bed, pulling the pilot between his legs, and over-top of him. Cid's hands untied the sash of Vincent's robe, again, his hands worming inside. Vincent sighed against the warm touch. "I was wondering why you tied it back."

"I really don't remember." His lips shifted to the tender air, burrying himself into the scent of the dark hairs. He felt a hand creeping along the back of his leg, reminding him of the towel he was wearing, as the hand pulled his leg to straddle a bare thigh. Cid flinched, feeling the hand move around, loosening the tuck of his censor, the fingers gently grasping his slightly swollen member.

Vincent moaned, his other hand messaging the head now nuzzling into his throat. "There you are."

Cid laughed, a bit frightened by his own blood flow. "Careful, Vince. I ain't been touched there in a while."

"Good." His fingers rubbed it expertly, making the flow worse. "Then I won't have to break anyone's hands."

"Yea, but." Cid pulled back, pulling the hand away, and pinned it against the bed. He stared down at the already lusting eyes, and smiled. "If you do that, then this may be over too fast."

"But, Cid."

He was cut short by those lips, a second time that night. "No. I want you to enjoy this for as long as you can." For every ounce of pain his gunman endured, Cid wanted him to have 100 years of pleasure.

Vincent's eyes glittered into a smile, even though his lips were pouting. "But I want to."

"Too bad." Cid slid down the slender body, placing kisses along the sensative flesh. His lips traced each scar, lapping out as if to clean the already healed wounds. Vincent moaned, his fingers curling into the sheets, as his body bucked up against the sensations. Cid always took pride in his ability to encite those sounds. All anyone ever saw of the stoic ex-Turk was silence. A distance that none of them seemed to believe even the pilot could cross. But he had discovered a long time ago how to handle Vincent. How to break him out of that quiet demeanor, and make the solomn body come alive in his arms. He truly reveled in it.

Cid pushed the rest of the satin robe aside, not even bothered by the towel sliding to the floor with his movements. It was bound to happen at some point.

As he stared down at the gunner's body, Cid had to bite his bottom lip to keep from laughing. "Erm.. Vince?"

Vincent's cheeks heated, smiling slyly. "Yes, Cid."

"When did you start wearing underwear?"

Vincent shrugged. "I don't."

"Uh, huh." He laughed slightly, amused. It was one thing if Vincent started wearing briefs or something. Seeing as how the reason for going commando was because they bunched up in the tight leather pants, but what Cid saw seemed a tad absurd on him. They were sky blue boxers, also a little big on him, with small bird like shapes spread out through it. A red plane sat in the front, with something pushing out from inside the center of a strategically placed propellor.

Cid just shook his head, looping his fingers under the waistband. "Well, they're not needed anymore."

Vincent closed his eyes, sighing as the pilot's fingernails scratched beneith them. "Indeed, they're not."

"Oh, Vince." It was amusing in a lot of ways. Maybe even ironic. If they could stand at any time to go for a while, without touching each other, both of their bodies seemed to revert back to a state of virginity. Evident with Vincent's already straining erection. Each touch, each lap of the tongue seemed to encite reactions that could only be triggered by two people that hadn't seen each other in years… even if it'd only been two days.

Vincent groaned, raking his hands through his hair, his hips girating into the warmth engulfing him between his thighs. "C-Cid." He pleaded, losing all traces of sanity.

"Hmm?' Cid hummed quizically, enjoying the sound of the groans of confused protest.

Vincent slammed his fists onto the bed, shaking it. "Cid, get up here."

The pilot released him, glancing up. "Why?" He lapped out at the hard soaken flesh.

Long thin fingers, twisted into the blond hairs, pulling the head up. "Because I said so, that's why." He nearly hissed. The gunman hated the sensation that hit him before he was about to cum in the pilot's mouth.

Cid smiled, knowing exactly what that frustration meant. He leaned forward kissing him. The gunman protested again, though not as hard, with the taste of himself on the blonde's lips. Instead he pulled back, sliding up to the head of the bed. Vincent lounged back, holding out his arms for his husband to come into them.

Cid gladly crawled over, wrapping his lips aroud Vincent's, one hand pushing up in between the gunner's spawled legs, while the other fished around inside of the bedside drawer. His fingers swirled around the hardened member, soon moving lower to push inside.

Vincent moaned with exstacy at the familiar touch, exploring him. His legs began to numb, fingers curling along the pilot's shoulder blades. He crooned his lover's name, feeling a tad love drunk.

The fingers came out, allowing Cid to hold Vincent tightly in his arms, as he started to push in. He kissed the ex-Turk, never feeling he could ever get enough of his lover's taste. "I love you, Vincent."

xXx

They spent a good portion of the night tangled in each others arms. Not sleeping, but just holding each other. Savoring the feel of their bare skin pressed together. A golden light began to wash over them as the sun rose through their window. Vincent sighed, feeling his pilot beginning to doze. He pushed himself up, kissing Cid to wake him back up.

It was now his turn to groan in protest. "Vince, I'm tired."

"I know." He smiled, cocking his head innocently to the side, allowing the long ebony hair to fall over his shoulder. "But I want to ask you something."

"Ugh. Can't it wait?"

Vincent shrugged. "I don't know."

Cid let out another sigh, that seemed to turn his lips into a motor boat. "Fine, what is it?"

The crimson eyes narrowed slightly, completely contradicting the sweet smile on the lips below. "How did you know what it said?"

Cid's face reddened slightly, his eyes darting a bit. "What what said?"

"… My back."

Shit… "erm."

--

_AN: *Vincent would never allow Cid to see him cry. He hated himself for even thinking about crying... but every time he saw the scars... the marks on his back that made him... he couldn't help it. All those years of hell and torture. He felt his mind pulling back to those horrific nights... far away from the warmth of Cid's arms. * quote made by gabrielsangel on DA... it was so beautiful, that i had to share it with others_

_uh oh, Cid's in trouble lol... i'd have him come up with some cleaver lie, but i figured it'd be more fun to leave to some interpretation. i know ima get some flaming for having them fight, but i had to get Cid in a towel somehow =D_


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